


Five Times

by TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5 Times, Angry Sex, Bisexual Carol Danvers, Biting, Blood Kink, Don't Judge Me, Dreams, Drinking, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotions, F/M, Fight Sex, Language, Making Up, Memory Loss, Mentor/Protégé, Nightmares, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Repressed Memories, Resolved Sexual Tension, Shower Sex, Technically sex with an alien, The Snapture, The Trash Ship has sailed, What is this emotion I'm feeling, Worship, Yonvers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-11-16 03:28:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18086609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG/pseuds/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG
Summary: It happens a year after he has brought her to Hala.





	1. Yon-Rogg

**Author's Note:**

> I am up to my neck in this dumpster fire of a ship and I have no regrets.

I.

It happens a year after he has brought her to Hala. They are at the training centre and he is teaching her a sequence of defensive movements, when she reacts a fraction of a second too slowly, when he is so startled by her lapse that he forgets to pull his punch. Instead he hits her almost squarely on the nose, and she goes down with a surprised yelp.

Blood spurts from her nose, dark against her pale skin, darker yet on her lips, and he is hit with a surge of possessiveness and desire that almost knocks him off his feet right next to her.

Instead, he offers her his hand and pulls her up, gives her a stern look. “Too slow, Vers.”

She grins, and the blood stains her teeth. “Yeah, well. So were you.” And then she licks the blood from her teeth, from her lips, and before he can form a coherent thought, he surges forward and kisses her, chases the taste of her – _his_ – blood with his tongue.

For a second she goes completely still, holds her breath, and then she moves into his space, tangles her hands in his shirt and his hair, and her mouth opens for him.

There is little gentleness, as they all but rip each other’s clothes off. She is hot against him, hotter than Terrans usually run, he knows, and the thought that she could burn him to cinders if she wanted to makes him growl into her mouth. She answers with a chuckle, and then she pushes him against the wall, right beneath the symbol of Starforce, and he feels like a blasphemer, at least until she presses herself against him, until she tugs his head down to her breasts, and he thinks that this is the altar he could spend the rest of his days worshipping at.

Vers knows what she wants, where she wants him, and when she kneels over him, when she grabs him by the base of his cock, never breaking eye contact with him as she sinks down, he wonders if she belongs to him, or if it’s the other way around.


	2. Vers

II.

She’s drunk, she realises, more than a little, and she can feel the disapproving look Yon-Rogg sends her way across the table. She doesn’t care, too giddy. This is a celebration, a party, and she is allowed to get drunk when she’s just gained her uniform back ( _back? why back? it feels new and unfamiliar_ ), even if she’s not allowed to accompany the team.

Talking him into this wasn’t easy, and she thinks he hasn’t cracked even one smile all evening, but that may be because it turns out that drunk Vers is a shameless flirt.

Later, when the others have said their goodbyes, he orders her on her feet, and she complies with a grin, proud of herself when she doesn’t wobble too badly.

She tugs him into her quarters before the door can close, pushes him down on her bed. He doesn’t resist, and she kisses him, with little finesse and a whole lot of teeth, her coordination shot to hell, although she can feel her head clearing with each breath.

And then his hands are on her and he moans her name into the space between them as she rolls her hips against his, and it takes but a few moments for both of them to be naked. She guides him to the juncture of her thighs, with a hand in his hair, and his breath hot against her makes her shudder.

Later, when he kneels between her legs and looks askance at her, she nods and pulls him closer with her calves around his hips, and when he’s inside her, he looks down at her with a sort of reverence as he says, “You’re magnificent, Vers,”

_(you’re so pretty so lovely I love you babe I love you I love you I love)_

and she squeezes her eyes shut and drags her nails across his shoulders until she feels wetness well up under her hands.

He doesn’t stay long, after, only long enough for her head to clear so she can feel the headache coming on, and she groans, “Never let me drink again.”

He chuckles, and the door hisses shut behind him.


	3. Yon-Rogg

III.

He comes back from a mission, and she’s waiting for him in the hangar. She may not be permitted on missions yet but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t pay attention, and he fills her in on what happened. At least on the things he can tell her, that she is allowed to know.

After the debrief, he makes his way to the showers, exhausted and bloody and wired like he is so often after a battle, and when the door opens to let in Vers, he cocks an eyebrow at her. “Anything you needed, soldier?”

She answers with a smirk as she locks the door, with untying her shirt, and he is immediately, painfully hard.

Vers winds her arms around his neck, moulds her body to his, and when she kisses him, it’s almost tender. It’s not until she licks at his lip that he notices the sting of the cut there, and when she sucks at the spot, he groans and spins her around, with her hands against the wall, and when he slides between her legs, he finds her wet and ready and so unbearably hot, like a star.

The tiles echo with the slap of flesh against flesh, with the gasps and the increasingly filthy words falling from her lips, half of it surely things she only half remembers but that come to her without thinking, and he leans forward, breathes her in, the scent of her hair. Her skin, soft and unblemished before him, unlike his own, with the smattering of scars all over him, and he longs to put his mark on her, an outward sign of his ownership of her, of the way she is bound to him, and he sucks a mark onto her shoulder.

She arches into him, her nails scrabbling over the tiles before she reaches back, lets them bite into the back of his neck, and his lips pull back from his teeth, and then he’s sinking them into her flesh.

Later, he’s watching the water run dark blue as she stands beneath the shower spray, and he dreads the day when she will remember.


	4. Vers

IV.

Another dream, this time not of flames and the grey-haired woman, no.

This time, Vers dreams of dark hands, soft touches, a loving smile, and she wakes up with tears running down her cheeks.

For a moment, she considers seeking out Yon-Rogg, but instead she pulls on her clothes and goes for a run. The city is still mostly asleep, as much as the capital ever is, anyway, and she spends two hours just running, until all her muscles ache, until her thoughts have stopped going in circles.

Until she has stopped wondering who those hands belong to.

Yon-Rogg is waiting for her at the training centre, and as she expects, he doesn’t mention that she looks exhausted, he just tells her to get changed, that he’ll go ahead. They have the centre to themselves this early, part of why they like to meet so early. No distractions.

But her heart isn’t in it this day, and he knocks her off her feet three times without her even landing one hit, and finally she yells in frustration, her hand glowing gold, and he ducks out of the way.

“What is wrong with you, Vers? A five-year-old could outwit you!”

Her lip curls, and she feels like she’s vibrating, his disappointment in her fuelling her own anger, and she launches herself at him, knocks him over, the surprise on his face immensely gratifying. She kisses him then, hard and furious, because that seems to be the only way she knows how to kiss him. He responds by sliding gentle hands up her sides, and it makes her see red, makes her unreasonably enraged, because no, gentle doesn’t belong to him. It belongs to someone else that she _just can’t remember_ , and she rears back and punches him, the same punch to the nose that he gave her all those years ago, that started all this. The taste of his blood on her tongue has the same effect as always, and if she spared a second to analyse her reaction, she would probably be disgusted with herself.

She hardly bothers with undressing. All she does is open the front of his trousers, exposing him, and then she gets to her feet and pushes off her own, so she’s naked from the waist down, and then she’s back on him. He doesn’t say anything the whole time, just lets her take what she needs from him, probably the only time he does with anyone. Vers fucks him with single-minded focus, moves his hands to her breasts, urges him to dig his fingers into her flesh, all to give her mind something else to hold onto than the gentleness she dreamed about.

They lie next to each other on the mat, after, as they catch their breath, and she can feel him watching her. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what,” he asks, and she can hear the smile in his voice.

“Like you care about me.”


	5. Carol

V.

It’s been years since she sent him back, defeated and disgraced, and she hasn’t thought about him in so long she can’t even remember the last time she did. But when she sees him perched on a stool, half obscured by the crowd filling the bar to near bursting, she knows it’s him immediately, even without his uniform and with his back to her, knows him by the width of his back, the way he holds himself. His hair is a little longer and he looks slimmer, but it’s him without a doubt.

Back then, on Earth, she was half convinced he wouldn’t even make it back to the Kree home world, not with the state his life pod had been in, but apparently he did make it somehow, and the fact that he’s here now, in a seedy bar on Knowhere, tells her all she needs to know about the welcome he received.

She makes her way through the crowd, hops onto the stool beside him. Looks at him from the corner of her eye as she signals the bartender, smiling to herself when he jumps a little in surprise, at the almost imperceptible flash of fear in his eyes. “Of all the gin joints, huh?” 

Yon-Rogg just looks at her, his surprise pushed aside by a facade of disinterest. “Vers.”

It’s bait, and she lets it slide as she picks up the glass of synthehol placed in front of her. “Let me guess, the Supremor wasn’t happy with you.”

The slightest tick of his mouth, followed by a blasé shrug of his shoulders. “The feeling was mutual.” He takes a sip of his drink, rolls it around his mouth for a moment, and Carol watches his throat bob as he swallows. “If a Terran could overpower the Intelligence, it can’t be all that supreme, can it?”

She laughs, ignoring the thinly veiled insult. He’s obviously pissed at her, wants to ruffle her feathers, but Carol refuses to play. “So what do you do these days?”

“What do you care?”

Her turn to shrug. “I was just being polite.” She drinks, almost gulps the synth down, and she questions her decision to talk to him. “But if you’re gonna be difficult.”

He barks a laugh at that, a bitter sound, and she looks up at him then. She has never seen him like this. His anger, his disappointment, is plain on his face, and she hears the words he drilled into her whispering in the back of her mind. “Anger only serves the enemy,” he'd told her again and again, and now he doesn’t even bother to hide his own.

“Excuse me for not feeling like catching up on my life with the person who ruined it.”

Now she bristles, her hand balling into a fist, and his mouth twitches in what may be a smile at managing to annoy her. And so she takes a breath, lets the tension in her arm go and picks up her glass again. “Yeah, well. Pot, kettle.” He looks at her blankly, but she just waves vaguely, tired of the fight all of a sudden.

They sit there in silence for a while, lost in thought, until their glasses are empty, until Carol looks over to find him watching her with a pensive look on his face.

Neither of them says anything as they get up, as Carol leads the way to her ship, Yon-Rogg following, not until the door has hissed shut behind them. He looks at her, his golden eyes unreadable. “Vers, I...”

She cuts him off by grabbing a hold of the front of his shirt and pushing him backwards until he hits a console with a grunt. “My name is _Carol_.” And then she kisses him, hard and punishing almost, until he slides a hand into her hair and tilts her head into a better position, and something softens inside of her.

During the years after she had regained her memories, she spent a lot of time pondering their relationship, how much of it had been real or not, if the apparent affection he’d shown her had been an act, and she never reached a conclusion that made any real sense to her. Could someone pretend so perfectly for so long? She doubts it.

Sex with him had always been almost like fighting him, always intense, always passionate. Something made it impossible for her to be gentle, to accept gentleness from him, and after she remembered, after she met Maria again, she understood why that had been the case. Now, though, a part of her wants that.

She wants to make peace, if only for her own sake.

His hand wanders, down along the back of her neck, over her shoulder, pulls her closer against him even as he breaks the kiss, and they’re both breathing hard as he rests his forehead against hers. “What do you want from me, Ver-”, a sigh, a sound of quiet defeat almost, before he says, “Carol?”

She looks up at him, sees her own tiredness reflected back at her from his eyes, and she smiles. “I want you to make it up to me.” Yon goes very still, except for his hand which twitches where it rests on her shoulder blade, his face carefully blank. And then he nods, just once, and Carol forgets to breathe.

He hoists her up, into his arms, and her thighs close around his waist automatically, her arms going around his neck. “Where do you sleep,” he asks, and she nods in the direction of her makeshift bedroom.

It requires conscious effort for her to be still, to be patient, when he starts undressing her, slowly, almost reverently. Her body remembers his, remembers the things they used to do with and to each other, and it wants her to pick up where they left off. Instead, she lies back and lets him do the work. The single-minded focus with which he goes about his task shouldn’t surprise her, knowing him as she does, but it does, at least a little.

He’s still fully dressed when he tugs her forward until her hips rest at the edge of the mattress, when he goes to his knees in front of her like a supplicant before an altar, and she pushes herself up on her elbows so she can watch him. He looks up at her, along the line of her body, and she shudders when his breath whispers over her, before he bends his head between her legs.

Way in the back of her mind, she can hear a voice telling her that this is the worst thing she has ever done, but Carol finds that she doesn’t give a shit. She should probably be more conflicted about this. Feel guilty and angry, considering that the man between her thighs is the one who killed her mentor, who stole her identity from her.

But she can’t. She doesn’t.

It feels too _good_.

He coaxes two orgasms out of her before she tangles her fingers in his hair and pulls him up to her, his body covering hers as she seeks his mouth, and the sound he makes as he presses himself against her makes something in her chest burst like a balloon. It’s a sound so full of yearning that it feels almost forbidden, and she tugs at his clothes, needing to feel him against her.

Carol looks her fill as he peels off his layers. He hasn’t changed much, she thinks. Kree age more slowly than humans do, so he looks barely older. The only difference is the amount of muscle he has, his slimmer figure probably down to a change in routine now that he’s no longer a member of Starforce. He meets her eye as he’s kicking off his boots, cocks an eyebrow, and she smiles. “Just refreshing my memory.” She reaches over, lets her fingertips glide along a scar below his collarbone, and he shivers.

He pulls her on top of him, and she laughs. “So I have to do the work now?”

There’s the hint of a smile as he cups her breasts, as he runs his thumbs over her nipples, coaxing them into peaks. “I know you like having me at your mercy.”

And shit, he’s right. She doesn’t just like it, she _loves_ it. Always has, since it was the only way she could undo him, could beat him, and the look on his face when she rode him, when she refused to slow down even as he told her to – it was a rush of power that she relished.

She drags herself along him, spreads her wetness over the line of his cock, and his hands twitch on her hips. “Carol...”

“Yes?” She leans down, kisses him, softly, just a brush of her lips over his as she positions herself.

“I’ve missed you.” It’s quiet, like he’s telling her a grand secret, and it probably is one. Something he could never tell anyone, could never admit to, and for a second she imagines him, how he came back to Hala, how he had to face the Supreme Intelligence, and how it would have seen right through him. She can’t imagine a greater humiliation for him.

She lets the words hang between them for a long moment, watches the way his pulse races at the base of his throat, before she lowers herself onto him, takes him inside her and moulds her body to his, laying on his chest with her head tucked under his chin. His breath hitches, and she whispers her own secret against his skin.

After, when the sweat is drying on their skin, as they lie on her too narrow mattress, limbs entangled, she tells him what “Make it up to me” really means. And when he agrees, with barely a second’s hesitation, she smiles to herself.

When she manoeuvers her ship out of Knowhere, he slides into the seat beside her, barefoot and shirtless, looking nothing like the hardened Kree warrior she used to know, and she thinks that maybe this might actually work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that, I guess. Who knows what these crazy kids are gonna get up to in the future?
> 
> Thank you all for reading!


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise unreservedly.

They’re on the ship, a bigger craft than she used to have, back when she found him, with a proper bedroom and a mattress big enough for two. There’s a kitchen, where she has fed him pizza, laughing at the look on his face after his first bite, smiling fondly when he devoured the whole thing in silence, concentration evident on his face.

She’s still saving the galaxy, every now and then. They gain a reputation, the Captain and her Kree Commander, and she enjoys it more than she probably should.

She also enjoys all the perks that come with having him in her bed, enjoys the way he has come to know her over the years, an intimacy between them she never knew she could enjoy so much. But she does, glad every day that they found their way back to each other.

They’re en route back to Xandar, after a call for help from the Nova Corps. There have been rumours for a while now, about the Black Order nosing around the planet, and Nova Prime requested her assistance.

Yon-Rogg, predictably, wanted to blow her off, no love lost between Xandarians and the Kree, but as usual, he aquiesces when she tells him they’ll go.

She’s just coming out of the shower, towelling off her hair, when there’s a beeping noise on the bridge, and then Yon’s voice.  
“Carol, your Terran gadget is making strange noises.”

She walks onto the bridge with a frown, and he’s waiting for her, the same expression on his face. He’s holding the pager Fury gave her, and her stomach drops. “Something's wrong on Earth.”

He looks up at her, and as she looks back at him, his expression changes slightly. “I don’t think...”

The pager falls from his hand, skidding over the metal floor, and Carol stares. “Are you okay?”

There is fear in his golden eyes, and he takes a steps towards her. “Caro-"

He dissolves, turns into dust before her eyes, dust that turns to nothing as she screams, and then she’s alone.


End file.
